


Any Port In A Storm

by Aashyma



Category: Downton Abbey
Genre: F/F, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, mentions of thomas/edward, mentions of thomas/jimmy, mentions of thomas/philp
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-03
Updated: 2016-02-03
Packaged: 2018-05-18 00:36:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5891218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aashyma/pseuds/Aashyma
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Troubled by frightening new feelings,Daisy turns to the one man who could help her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Any Port In A Storm

“Have you ever loved someone Mr. Barrow?”

Thomas looks up from his newspaper to find a kitchen empty of everyone but himself, Daisy and two fresh cups of tea.

She pushes one towards him, “Well?”

“Sure I have ”, he takes a sip as she watches him expectantly, “my mother, two of my sisters. Not Madge though.”

“That’s not what I meant! ”, then distracted, “ why not Madge?”

“That’s going to cost more than a cup o'tea Daisy. ”

She pulls a face and returns to her earlier question, “I mean have you ever been in love?”

“Been pining after you for a few years.”

“Stop that!”

“Stop what?”

“Treating me like I’m stupid. I’m not you know. I..“she watches him warily “I know, even if Mrs Patmore thinks I don’t. ”

There’s an uncomfortable pause. He keeps his face carefully blank. She twists her hands in her lap, takes a deep breath, continues in a small voice “I..people say. .someone told me that. .it’s not really love. Not the way it’s between a man and a woman. It’s just a shadow, like a Punch and Judy. Shallow.”

He thinks of cool, crisp Philip with his soft hands, Philip who could never lie properly even when he ended their love as though he were snapping the neck of some small, delicate bird. Philip who hadn’t quite managed to keep the pain off his face as he said his cruel farewells.  
He thinks of Edward, broken by his family, blinded by the war and abandoned by his country. Sweet, kind Edward who’d slit his own wrists in the face of this triple betrayal.  
He thinks of Jimmy,bold, bright golden Jimmy who smiled like the sun coming out: warm and impersonal. Jimmy who,though he could be so heartlessly thoughtless, had never hurt Thomas as he had hurt him. Jimmy who,despite that betrayal had given him everything he could.

He looks up at Daisy,watching him half afraid and half hopeful before ducking his head to take another sip and to hide his suddenly moist eyes.

“No.”, he says hoarsely, “it’s not false. The way it hurts it had damned well better be the real thing.”

“But how do you know?”

“Well have you ever been in love?”

“I think so”, she hesitated “once.”

“What did it feel like? ”

“Oh”, her face brightens,“ like when you finally manage to solve a sum you’ve been working on for hours. It’s like everything suddenly makes sense. Like the first bite of freshly baked bread. Like you missed a step on the stairs and fell into a nicer world.”

“Well that’s not exactly how the poets say it is but sounds about right. Which one of your swains inspired that?”

She hesitates. Fidgets. Looks away.

Realisation dawns.

“Daisy,” gently “was it a woman?”

She looks up at him,then down at her lap. Nods. Bursts into tears.

He watches helplessly as she sobs, mutters “It’ll be all right” Gets up to make her a fresh cup, thankful that unlike Mr Carson he can navigate a kitchen.

Sits down next to her and gently puts his arm around her shoulders. She turns and buries her face in his chest, chokes out ” I didn’t know who else to ask.“

“Let it out first Daisy, you’ll feel better.” 

This isn’t something he does or knows how to. He doesn’t know how to be a comfort but he does know what it feels like to be terrified of yourself, of prison, of hell. He decides Daisy won’t go through that, at least not alone. His arm tightens around her shoulders as though she were him at twelve, nineteen, twenty five, now. He’ll give her what he didn’t have.

He’ll be someone who understands.

She quitens, turns away. Apologises.

“Daisy”, he searches for some sort of reassurance and comes up empty, “it’s not going to go away. It’s not going to be easy. People will call you all sorts of things.” 

“Cor you’re bad at this. ” 

He scowls, “You keep your head up high Daisy. You’re different, not broken. You’re not foul so you don’t let anyone tell you different. You”, he draws himself up,“ are a champion! ”

She laughs weakly, which is something he supposes. 

“So,who is it?” He thinks of soft, gentle, cruel Philip and hopes it’s not anyone upstairs. 

She looks away, flushes, “Miss Bunting.” 

He thinks back. Laughs. “No wonder you were so studious.” 

“Shut up! I liked learning and she’s wonderful. ”Blushes harder. “She asked me to join her new school as a junior teacher. I can continue studying while I work. ” 

“You think she fancies you? ” 

“I don’t know. Maybe. I fell asleep once when we were studying together and I think she said. ..” she trails off looking wistful. 

He waits. She doesn’t tell him what Sarah Bunting said. 

“Will you go?” 

“You think I should chuck everything in case she fancies me? ” 

“I think you should chuck everything for a better job. Where you can improve. Everything else is extra. ” 

“I suppose. What about you,Mr Barrow? ” 

He shrugs, “I’d go if something came up. ” 

“If I go,will you write to me?”

He strikes a dramatic pose, “Every hour. ” 

She laughs then yawns. Kisses him goodnight. 

Leaves him in the kitchen alone, yet somehow less lonely.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a tumblr prompt: "Things you said I wasn't meant to hear". I am very bad at understanding prompts.


End file.
